


odd sense

by byeolbit



Category: VIXX
Genre: Implications of Murder, M/M, indirect mentions of vixx, inspired by odd sense and the scentist perfume theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 13:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byeolbit/pseuds/byeolbit
Summary: Hongbin couldn't care less about the masquerade. His senses are otherwise occupied with the enigmatic scent he has been looking for all night.(Inspired by VIXX's song of the same name)





	odd sense

Hongbin caresses the blue flower in his hand, tutting as he takes in its current state. The vase of sweet peas has been long forgotten by the staff, the fellow flowers wilting away. The lone stalk stands upright, petals stubbornly taut. He’s rescuing a destitute flower, he reasons. It’s definitely not stealing if the flower was forgotten in the first place.

 

A shame since sweet peas are notoriously difficult to grow and care for.

 

And poisonous, he grins to himself. It’s not a well known fact but sweet peas are toxic and more often than not humans are fooled by the bright hue. He takes in the aroma and surveys the scene from the balcony he is standing on.

 

He rather hates balls. The faux laughter and giggling of the crush, the obnoxious music and the bright hundred candle chandelier are rather off putting. He would not be here if not for the insistence of the host, who was hell bent on inviting the town’s favourite perfumer. Hongbin would rather be in his cozy shop surrounded by his equipment than be here at the masquerade.

 

The passage of time does no wonders for his mood. He absolutely abhors the mixing of the banal scents of the society. Almost every human is bathed in dubious amounts of strongly scented oils and powdered faces. The satin coats and skirts swish as he makes his way across the dance floor. He has been here for a polite amount of time. He figures, professing an illness and an inability to dance will be good enough to excuse him from further forced company.

 

An odd scent flits by him and he stops, staring in the direction it came from.

 

It’s unusual. He caught only a faint whiff of the scent but it isn’t a tone he can recognise. The base tone of sandalwood and citrus is the first thing he recognises but he can’t name the oil that produces the fragrance.

 

He turns and follows the scent. He makes half hearted apologies for the dancing couples he interrupts in his haste. He must find the person who walked by him.

 

Scents trigger a series of memories in anyone. He is briefly reminded of his mother who worked as a fisherwoman, her hands always smelling of the dead fish and the salty seas. He is reminded of the young boy with large brown eyes who smelt of white roses, who was the first person who Hongbin drowned in a vat of essential oils so that he could trap that lovely fragrance.

 

But that was a failure. His first true success was the man who smelt like yellow sunflowers. Hongbin first saw him with a yellow honeysuckle held between his lips, his cat like eyes darting to his own. The memory is immortalized in a vial of honeysuckle toned perfume that is stored away on a shelf. Never for sale and out of reach of wandering unwelcome hands.

 

What is that alluring scent that pulls him in so strongly? To whom does it belong?

 

The dance changes and the people move around, couples walking off the dance floor and couples walking onto the dance floor. The scent wafts to him, calling him teasingly but never revealing its source.

 

A low growl escapes Hongbin’s throat. He must find it.

 

He excuses himself to a corner, grabbing a cup of coffee as he walks by the food table. The roasted powder absorbs fragrances and they are the best substitute he can find for the beans. His senses must be alert if he has to track this mysterious scent down.

 

As the baroque progresses, Hongbin catches the eye of a gentleman across the floor. He is dressed in a dark green coat with golden filigree along the stitches and lower hem and a flower brooch on his lapel. From his movements and build Hongbin can tell that he is quite young compared to the ton. Most men here are old military veterans or old wealthy merchants. But this man is new. Hongbin hasn’t seen him in town earlier.

 

The man holds his gaze while engaging his partner in polite conversation. The girl dancing with him is quite besotted but Hongbin knows she is not the object of his attention. As the musicians approach the crescendo, the couple approaches him and Hongbin catches that enigmatic scent again. His eyes narrow, pupils dilating with uninhibited wanting.

 

The gentleman’s eyebrows raise. He grins slyly, holding his head higher. Hongbin smiles because his night is now more interesting than he initially thought it would be. The couple moves away in the sequence of steps but Hongbin can wait. Patience is important and he has an abundance of it.

 

The secret to that mysterious scent will be unraveled by the time the ball ends and oh, his night has only just begun.

 

The set ends and the gentleman bows to his dance partner. He is rather tall and dashing under that mask, if his features are any indication. His nose and jawline feel sculpted from marble and his broad shoulders are exaggerated by the cut of his coat. The gentleman refuses a second offer to dance with a wistful smile that guiles the asker into feeling sorry for asking rather than the rejection. He turns to Hongbin who retreats to the gallery adjacent to the ballroom.

 

The sounds are muffled here and the lighting dimmer. The footmen are all engaged in the ballroom, leaving the gallery and its occupant paintings unguarded. Hongbin only turns when he reaches the end of the long hallway. His young gentleman has only entered the gallery and he stops to stare at Hongbin. He licks his lips and Hongbin moves before he has the chance to call his name.

 

Hongbin follows the familiar path to the patio that leads to the gardens in the backyard. Since most of the gathering is inside for the dancing, the gardens will be empty and most private locations. The steps give way to the fountain that is followed by large hedges, cultivated and grown to form a maze.

 

Hongbin disappears into the hedges and the young man follows. Perhaps the best part of this clandestine affair is the exhilarating chase. Left turns and then right. A solid wall and a secret passage leading to the centre. The hedges give way but there is no one in sight.

 

The young man smiles, sensing Hongbin behind him before turning to look at him. He takes his mask off. Hongbin is unmasked and it seems only fair.

 

The moonlit visage pales in comparison to the the odd scent he has been chasing all evening. Hongbin swears under his breath. What gives rise to that overwhelming fragrance that draws him in like the opposite pole of a magnet? The tantalising secret lies just beyond his reach. Edging closer and closer to his finger tips.

 

The young gentleman holds his breath as Hongbin closes the distance between them in a trance. He traces his jawline and leans in, breathing against the skin just below his ear.

 

Hongbin moans in delight when he realizes two things. The first is that the scent he has been chasing all night isn’t an exotic unknown perfume from a far away land. A night’s worth of dancing has made the sandalwood and citrus fade away, in need of reapplication as it were.

 

No. This delightful scent is all his. This young beautiful man’s fragrance. An object of beauty indeed, Hongbin admires now that he can recognize him aromatically. His hand on the other man’s shoulder tightens possessively.

 

_His_.

 

And no one else’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Do not ask me how I looked at the lyrics of odd sense and thought of murder.
> 
> Come cry with me on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/poojamk15?s=09) or my [Tumblr](https://vixxscifiwritings.tumblr.com)


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